Taichi sat on a concrete bench,
hunched over as his thumb scrolled through names his glazed eyes
weren't reading. It was silent, save the distant sound of
conversation and the constant beeping from his phone. The sun was
slowly setting, shadows playing on the ground beneath Taichi's
feet. He was alone, though if it was by choice he wasn't sure.

A cold wind blew
softly, unnoticed by the boy. His body instinctively shuddered, but
he made no effort to warm himself. He saw no reason to.

"Sora! Wait
up!"

He groaned as
the memory began to catch up to him. He began to scroll through his
phonebook faster, a single staccato note echoing through the streets.
Maybe if it was loud enough, it could down out the sound of her
voice.

"Oh,
Taichi."

His hands were
shaking now, making it harder to breeze through the numbers. The
beeping grew erratic; soon the phone slipped out of his sweaty palms,
and he had to bend down to pick it up. Resuming the furious pace, his
finger ran through the assortment faster than before, the phone
reaching its limit. Soon, no matter how rapidly he pressed the
button, the names would pass at the same speed.

"So, Sora?
Are you going to the concert with anyone? Not that it matters...Just
wondering."

"Damn phone,"
he growled. "Can't go any faster…"

He didn't want
to stop. He didn't want to tempt fate and let the selection die on
names he didn't want to see. Names he wasn't so sure he wanted on
his phone anymore.

"No, I want
to be available in case Yamato's free afterwards."

There was a loud
crack as his phone hit the concrete below his feet.

Trembling,
Taichi clutched his head as he felt the world begin to spin again.
His sense of up and down had been disoriented since the moment he
realized that he had lost the only thing he thought would never
change on him, no matter what.

He had lost his
sky. He had lost his Sora.

"Oh, I see.
Yamato, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Stop it, stop
it," he whispered hoarsely, gripping his head tighter as if a
firmer hold on his mind could restore everything back to how it was
before. A shooting pain traveled through his skull, and he winced in
pain, loosening his grasp.

He looked up at
the setting sun, a shining red, the colour of her hair. He felt
himself getting dizzy again, and stuck his head in between his knees.

The sky is up,
the sky is up. No matter what happens, the sky is up.

The world spun
nauseously, and Taichi fought the urge to throw up. Eventually, the
churning in his stomach receded and he peeked down at the floor with
one eye.

His phone laid
screen up, a name brightly enveloped in a green light.

Tachikawa Mimi.

He snatched the
phone and sat up so quickly he came lightheaded. He ignored it, his
eyes staring at the name glowing back at him.

Mimi Tachikawa?
Of all people, why Mimi Tachikawa? He hadn't spoken to her in ages;
hell, she didn't even live in the same hemisphere anymore. So why
her?

His hand had
dialed the number and brought the receiver smoothly to his ear before
he realized what he was doing. Wait a minute, was he really calling
her?

Well, Taichi
thought reasonably, it makes sense, sort of. Mimi wasn't the type
of person to ignore a person in need, and the fact that he didn't
see her everyday was a plus. He didn't think he could bear her
looks of pity.

The phone had
rung four times and he was about to hang up when he heard a groggy
voice say, "Hello?"

At first, Taichi
was confused; this was Mimi's phone, right?

"Hello?" the
voice pressed, clearly irritated.

Suddenly, it hit
him: she was speaking English.

Of course she
would answer her phone in English - she did live in New York, after
all. Nevertheless, Taichi was puzzled by the fact that she would
answer his phone call in anything other than Japanese - she knew he
was horrible at languages.

Mimi, obviously
very annoyed by this point, began a long string of harsh sounds,
scaring him out of his wits.

He nodded, and
then remembering that she couldn't see him, said, "Yep."

"What are you
doing calling me at this hour?" she snapped, evidently unappeased.
"It's five in the morning!"

"I-I'm
sorry!" he stammered. "It's just…well…"

"What is it?"
Mimi asked after a moment. Her voice had changed; it was soft now,
concerned.

"Um,
well…Sora…ano…"

"Sora?" Her
sudden alertness spooked Taichi. How many emotions did this girl go
through in the span of two minutes? "Is something wrong? Did
something happen to her?"

"No, no, she's
okay," he assured Mimi, wondering what he had gotten himself into
and if it was too late to just hang up.

"Then what is
it?" She sounded curious, and he knew there was no chance of
leaving now. She was hooked.

"Sora…I
mean…I think Sora likes Yamato," he blurted in a rush. His
heartbeat grew so painful he swore it was about to burst out of his
chest, and he found himself out of breath. It was as if saying those
three words had caused him to run a mile.

The line was
silent for a long minute, causing Taichi to think she had hung up on
him. Just when he was about to dejectedly end the call, she spoke up.

"Are…are you
sure?" she said at last.

"I'm sure,"
he replied miserably.

He heard her
sigh, and he imagined the look of pity on her face. Perfect. Well, at
least he couldn't see it.

"Oh Sora,"
she whispered softly, so softly that Taichi thought briefly that his
ears were playing tricks on him. "Yamato, of all people…?"

"Um, Mimi?"
he said tentatively.

"Huh?" She
sounded as if she hadn't been paying attention.

"Um, are you
okay?"

The girl let out
a small laugh. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Taichi couldn't
help a chuckle of his own. She had a point.

"Taichi,"
Mimi continued on briskly, as if she was simply trying to get to the
bottom of another silly rumor, "are you sure that she likes Yamato?
Ishida Yamato? What if it's just some other blond guy with a
similar haircut - "

"It was
Ishida, all right, she was waiting outside of his concert with a
present for him!" he said loudly, wishing with each word he didn't
have to say it himself.

"Maybe it was
a Christmas pre - "

God, couldn't
she get it through her thick skull? "MIMI! She likes Yamato! That's
it! That's all there is to it! Okay? OKAY?"

Losing control
over his emotions, he felt his voice crack and had to stop. Guilt
seeped through his veins. She didn't deserve that. Mimi hadn't
done anything wrong.

Then he heard a
sound that made him catch his breath. It was a small cry, barely
audible, but he was sure it was real.

He sighed,
feeling worse than before. "I'm sorry, Mimi, I didn't mean to
yell at you."

"No," she
sniffed, "It's not you."

He frowned.
"Then what's wrong?"

She gave him a
hollow laugh. "Nothing. It's just funny how things turn out,
that's all."

All of a sudden,
a curious though hit him. "You…you liked Yamato, didn't you?"
he asked quietly, wondering if his theory was true or if it was just
his despair talking. Misery loved company, after all.

"Probably not
as much as you liked Sora," she replied in a bitter voice after a
brief pause in which he assumed Mimi had been contemplating how much
information to divulge.

A calm silence
fell over them, and Taichi soon felt a kind of gratefulness towards
his fortune. Maybe when it came to love he had no luck, but at least
his recovery call hit the mark.

"Oh Taichi,
are you all right?" Mimi whispered worriedly. "I know how much
you liked her, and Yamato was your best friend, they both were…"

"Yea, that's
why I have to be there for them," he responded, his heart heavy
with trepidation, "Though I'm not really looking forward to
that."

Another break.

"I can't
believe them," Mimi said suddenly, her tone surprisingly scathing.
"I mean, Sora doesn't know about my thoughts on Yamato, but –
and no offense – it was obvious that you liked her. How could
Yamato even entertain the idea of saying yes to her? And how could
she make a move towards Yamato, knowing that he's your best friend?
Seriously, what the hell? How could they betray you like that?"

"Well, Yamato
technically hasn't done anything yet," said Taichi weakly, trying
to fight the emotions Mimi was invoking. He had suppressed them
rather successfully for awhile, but she was starting to make it
difficult.

"Whatever, you
know he will, eventually," she snarled. "He'll worry about you,
but once you give them your blessing – which I already know you'll
grant – he'll go on ahead, thinking everything's fine."

"Yea, you're
probably right," he moaned. He placed his head in his free hand.
"But what else am I supposed to do?"

There was a lull
in the conversation at this point, and Taichi could hear Mimi tapping
her fingers thoughtfully on something through the receiver, her
breathing slow and melancholy. He wondered vaguely how much sleep she
had gotten before he had decided to call.

"Nothing,"
she sighed at last in a tired voice. "There's nothing either of
us can do, except…"

"Except keep
on smiling and pretend everything is all right," Taichi finished
for her, his heart falling into his stomach.

"Exactly."

As the silence
between the two lengthened, Taichi looked up from the vision of
concrete he had by now managed to memorize and glanced at the sky.
The heavens had turned a soft rose, gradually becoming a deep indigo
as his eyes reached the stars. Funny, he thought, how things changed
so quickly without warning. He couldn't even recognize his previously bright red sky anymore.

"I'm sorry I
didn't help," Mimi said remorsefully, though the fatigue in her
voice was more pronounced than ever.

"Don't worry
about it," he assured her. "I feel better now, thanks to you."
Which, surprisingly, wasn't a lie; he still had that horribly empty
feeling in his chest, but somehow it didn't feel so intense
anymore. Knowing that he wasn't going to be the only one forced to
smile through the pain lightened the load, if only slightly.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Mimi,
thank you," he said, unable to keep from smiling. Her earnestness
was endearing.

"All right, if
you say so," she said doubtfully.

Taichi chuckled
softly. "Go to bed, Mimi."

"Good night,
Taichi."

"'Night."

There was a soft
click, and Taichi turned off his phone. Looking up, he sat silently
as the sky turned from dusk into night and the sounds of the concert
echoed through the empty boulevard. When the streetlights turned on,
he stood up stiffly and slowly made his way back to the tent,
determined to act as if nothing had happened. He did bear the crest
of courage, after all – if anything, that much hadn't changed.

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